Moments

Come on in. There's some veggies and the skins are thrown back to get the last of this fresh air before winter really hits.

I want to talk to you about moments.

I want to speak of those times when you are the perfect you.

Maybe not the true you, maybe not the real you, but the perfect you.

I want to talk to you about moments.

That moment when you just know you're in the right place at the right time.

That moment when you can hear reality snap, and everything is so in focus, so on point, that you just feel unstoppable.

I want to talk to you about moments.

It could be when you're doing something physical, and the weariness just drops off, you body snaps to attention and you feel invincible.

It could happen when you're creating a piece of art, and you write the most perfect prose, rhyme, make that brush/pen/pencil stroke that you didn't so much plan as just do, and you know it will always stay with you as so incredibly beautiful.

I want to talk to you about moments.

Looking into your children's faces, seeing the unbelievable potential you've released into the world.

The moment when you realize it doesn't matter, just as long as you can love that person freely.

I want to talk to you about moments.

When a second wind hits, when the fever breaks, when time stops, when all the fear is gone and it's just you, and a grin takes your face so fiercely you're sure someone would claim your brain just snapped.

I want to talk to you about moments.

And the reality is those moments are just our body releasing all the hormones and chemicals that make us feel good, feel right, feel unstoppable.

But.

I want to talk to you about moments.

It's those moments you are the perfect you.  The fearless you.  The unstoppable you.  The unshakable you.

When all the fear, anxiety, doubts, self-recriminations, and negative thoughts just drop away, are shed like an old skin and you shine.

You SHINE.

I want to talk to you about moments.

Because those moments, those are the times that makes the rest of the pain worth it.

That perfect you is always there, always waiting to just happen, when you do what you are meant to do.  When you are on your path.

I want to talk to you about moments.

Boom pow WOW

Come on in, the sun is high and shining, the skins are pulled back, but it's still a bit chilly, so if you need to warm yourself, the fire is bright.  Sorry about the lack of snacks, but I'm pretty broke.  If you brought something, feel free to share.

So here's the thing.  Depression saps everything about you.  It just takes you and drains it like when an old cartoon is about the faint and all the colour drains out of the character.  It just keeps sucking you down into this terrible terrible emptiness, where everything is an echo, a shadow, a shade, a mote of what you once were and once loved.  It makes everything good just terrible and the terrible becomes the uncontrollable tsunami of doom.

Of course, most of you who read this know that already, it's preaching to the choir.

And so I've been working on those ANTs and using that CBT to get my head around things.  I've been smudging, praying for the little bits of my brain to shake loose the scales on my eyes.  I have been putting in the work.

And the dreams, the dreams are wonderful, even if they are exhausting.  I'm dreaming in large living colour in worlds and places I used to tromp through and explored all the little corners of my brain.  Dreams that seem like years take place in moments and I know the little demons down below are lurking but they can't hide forever.

And here's what I've realized.

I'm fucking amazing.

I don't mean that like 'positive thinking will make it true.'  I mean holy shit people, do you realize just how fucking amazing and mind numbingly improbably my entire existence is?  Lemme tell ya.

I shoulda died at birth.  They had to yank me out and I came out looking like I'd done 15 rounds with Ali.

I choked on a chunk of steak that could have lodged in an alligator's throat.  I passed out and landed on a chair in just the right way to dislodge it.

I have ingested and inhaled more substances than most rock bands.  Ok, well maybe not Lemmy but please, who is Lemmy?

I've taken so many brain bruises my grey matter should be close to slurry.  But it's not.

Let's not forget the diabetes which led to the pancreatitis which had the abdominal surgeon honestly ask me 'Do you want to die? Are you trying to die.'  I might've been.  Was a pretty rough patch during that.

And in spite of all these things let's list some well known facts about the Coyote.

I'm devilishly charming.  I mean, I'm just so wonderfully charismatic that what others do that would get them in trouble, just makes me more interesting and fascinating.  Seriously, I could tell you some work place stories.  Or the shit I say in academic settings.  ANYONE else who did what I do would get just hung out to dry.  When I do it people are like 'Fuck, that dude speaks DA TROOF!'

Smart?  Oh my.  I am so smart.  I'm so smart I know I don't know shit but I probably know a lot more than 99% of the people.  I'm also so smart that when I DON'T know something I'm all good with admitting it and looking it up or going to the folks who DO know.

Talent?  I sing, I dance, I write prose and poetry.  I tell jokes, I make the ladies swoon (that's right I said swoon muthafuckas).  I am the ultimate jack of all trades because I have mastered many.

And willpower?  When I want to do something, it gets done, even when it shouldn't.  And when I wanna be good at something, oh my god people.  I'm just unstoppable.

And my body?  While a bit pudgy and out of shape right now, let's look at the abuse it's taken yet I can still do what needs to be done.  And last physical? Sure the cholesterol and sugars were still a bit off, things like my heart, lungs, and kidneys were all working in tip top shape.  Whee!!!

And I got blessed with this hyper sensitivity disorder, which means I technically have super powers like Daredevil, just no radar sight.  Seriously, my sense of smell lets me identify people before I see them, and know how they're feeling.  My sense of touch is so sharp, I can find all a body's aches and pains and make them feel better.  And when it comes to intimacy.  Well.  That'd be a porn story if I were to tell that one.

Add it all up and I'm fucking amazing.  And I know it.  And now so do you.

Let's do this fuckin' thing.

A Tidal rant

Come on in, I'm sick tho, so stand a bit back.  As well, there's some tea and chicken noodle soup available for y'all.

So Jay-Z, he went and spent $56 million on a streaming company so he can 'revolutionize how music is listened to.'  But I'm gonna disagree with ole money bags there because he's doing what every other rich person does when someone ELSE revolutionizes what they do.

See here's the thing Jay, can I call you Jay, or maybe J? Or just Juh.  There are several hundred artists who have revolutionized how we get our music these days, and they've used various different ways to get into our ears, worked hard, and are reaping the benefits.

Take Walk Off The Earth.  I'm a proud WOTE-ling.  These folks took other people's songs, did some very interesting covers, changed things up, did that neat guitar thing that was the second most watched video on the YouTubes one year, and also produced an album of their own music.  I've seen them live, they are remarkably talented.  THEY revolutionized how I listen to music.  Through them I stopped looking at the radio and started digging through related artists, and found others.  And they let a lot of their music play for free in a ton of places.  That I can listen to it free certainly did not stop me from buying EVERY SINGLE ALBUM THEY'VE PRODUCED, including their two cover albums, because they deserve my money for being such incredible artists.  And they come anywhere near me you bet I'll rob a music store, steal all your albums Juh, and sell them to the first dumbass I see to get tickets to see WOTE.

Or perhaps Juh, we can talk about Sarah Donner.  I heard about her through The Oatmeal with this song.  And her voice was so awesome I had to check her other stuff and found a song that, when shit really seems to be sinking me into my deepest depressions I listen to.  Because you won't find me in the valley when I hear Sarah sing it.  AND Juh, she also runs a kitten rescue, and she responds to fans on twitter, and is generally just this hilariously wonderful person who lets people see who she really is, which seems pretty messed up but awesomely so.  Like THE REST OF US.

Or, and this is my latest find, let's talk about Julia Nunes.  Here is an artist who has used YouTube to such a degree that CNN, the most exploitative newsgroup out there, featured her, but who cares, she has thousands of followers, and does amazing music, and lets us listen to it for free, and I'ma buy all her shit as soon as I can because HOLY AMAZEBALLS SHE HAS THE MOST POWERFUL VOICE EVER! I mean seriously, when I listen to her sing it feels like she is putting every ounce of herself into it and there it is like a train going too fast, almost rocking right off the tracks but it never does, it JUST NEVER FUCKING DOES! She just keeps barrel assing forward and plows your ears into next week with her awesome songs.

See these people revolutionized how we listen to music.  This is what you are doing:
"Gee other really rich artists.  People are listening to our music and we're not getting paid enough for it! I say we get together and if we put all of us in the SUPER AWESOME RICH MUSICIAN CLUB together, we'll be able to convince people it's worth paying MORE THAN THEY DO FOR THEIR (Insert a single persons utility) for 'high quality' streaming music of us in the SUPER AWESOME RICH MUSICIAN CLUB. AND other people who aren't quite in the SARMC will join us just to be associated with us because they want to be in the SARMC."

That is what EVERY OTHER FUCKING RICH PERSON HAS DONE WHEN THEIR WAY OF DOING IT HAS BEEN THREATENED YOU FUCKING TOOL.  I mean for fuck's sakes Juh, I expect better of people in the SARMC.  I expect you to have at least picked up a half dozen or so books and maybe come across the word revolution and know what it means.  Not as a marketing term Juh, as an actual word with an actual meaning, not just the bullshit you're spouting.

Wanna revolutionize music? Go look at the three artists I mentioned, and fucking learn from them you ass hat.

There are things that scare me.

So come on in.  The fire is high tonight because the shadows really are a bit touchy.  Don't get close to them.  They have teeth.  But I have cookies, so we'll cuddle in close and enjoy the light.

I'm going to do something that is very much against what I believe but I also know I need to get something out of my head.  I need to make it perfectly clear that what is about to come out is really not pleasant or fun.  Feel free to back off and wander someplace else.

I feel very alone.  Part of that is I'm not a big fan of people in general.  I don't get along with a lot of folks.  Ok, I can totally appear to get along with a lot of people but really, there's maybe a dozen in the world I really like, and maybe twice that I can tolerate.  The rest drive me fucking insane.  So I stay away, because I know I'm intense, I know I will say what makes people uncomfortable, I will not tolerate stupidity and hate.  So I stay home, with my cat, and I hide from it.

Part of the reason I've lost so much is that I have not been getting out there.  About five years ago I maybe had more tolerance, I maybe cared more, I maybe didn't get so angry.  And that's the big problem.  I'm pretty fucking angry.

Angry enough to drive off the person I loved.  Angry enough to make my children uncomfortable.  Angry enough that I walked away from the one thing I'm really fucking good at.  Because I was afraid.  I'm terrified I'm going to break the last few bonds I have with people and will be as alone as I feel.

Because I know I'm not alone.  I have some of the most terrific and wonderful people in my life.  People who haven't even met me and yet still did what was possible to give me the opportunity to heal.  And I can completely rationalize that I'm not alone.  But feeling and intelligence don't always agree.

So here is how I've changed some of those behaviors.  I've been socializing more.  I've been trying to not just react negatively to people who do things that trigger my anger response.  I have done a fairly good job of not just going off on people.  And I have asked for help when I need it.

But I need to find a job.  Yet the idea of leaving my house every day is terrifying.  Having to interact with the same people every single day makes my skin crawl and my eyes twitch, and my fists clench, and my teeth grit.

And part of it is that I'm not a big fan of working at something I don't want to do.  I have had my dream job, I want to get back to it, but I need to pay the bills right now.

And my mind is not being happy about this right now and I can't find a solution.

So I'm kind of panicking.

A lot.

I'm tired.

Yep, it's almost three in the morning, and I can't sleep.  I have lots of munchies, you might partake of the snap peas, or perhaps you want some of the noodles.  Either way, enjoy.

Folks, this whole mental health thing is tiring.  I'm exhausted.  I try very hard every day to spend an hour or more going through my cornucopia of demons and fighting them has sapped me.  I'm grumpy, short tempered, and it is very tempting to fall back into bad habits, and isolate myself because really, I'm just one big mental and emotional bruise and everything feels just horrible.

This is not to say I'm not getting better.  I am.  I've eliminated a lot of my automatic negative behaviors, I've stopped a lot of my anxiety about the potential outcome of things, and I'm taking the time to grieve for the many losses I've suffered recently.  So I am getting better.  It's just really fucking hard.

So I'm tired, but my brain won't stop buzzing, so much so it's caused more migraines in the last few weeks than I had all of last year.

So here's what I'm going to ask.  If you can take the time to stay positive with me, I'd love to hear from you about any good thing that has happened to you.  I want to surround myself with some nice stories about fabulous things that made you smile, laugh, or just comfortable.  I want to see your smiles, your pets, your comforts, and I would love to just drown in those things for a while.  Because those are the connections I need to see for my own blessings.  You can respond here, or twitter, or text, or call.  I like phone calls.  I love to talk and listen.

And if I start to sound like an asshole, feel free to just say so.  I need to hear that too.

What I want

Come on in.  The larder is a bit bare, so we have ... uhm.  Yeah, I don't have any food to share, so bring a snack with you into the den, sorry about that.

To quote many sources, mostly my good friend ceno, writers write.  And I need to get back into the practice of writing.  So back to the blog folks.  But here's the problem:  my brain is stuck in a groove and I need to get it unstuck.

One of the best signs I can point to that I'm a lot healthier over all since, say, a month ago, is that my libido is back.  And not like 'Hmm, I could go for sex when it happens,' but instead 'Holy shit, I need this NOW! RAWR!!!'  And as a sign of this, my dreams have been just OVER RUN with the sexiness.  We all dream hundreds of dreams, and I remember a huge percentage of them, and of those, about half are with the sexy times.  So I'm going to write this out.

Point one:  If you don't want to read about my sexy thoughts, stop now.  Seriously, just step away from the blog and go play with a puppy, or read a book, or have your own sexy thoughts.

Point two:  IF you're still here this post is not about any specific female.  This isn't a love lorn post pining away for affection.  This is me trying to get some of this out of my head, some place else so I stop waking up in the middle of the night going 'Damnit!'  If you feel the need to read this as directed at you, feel free as well.  Far be it from me to stop any one else's fantasy.

What I Want.

I want you naked.  I want you sitting with the lights on, but your eyes are covered.  I want to explore.  I want to find all the places you hide, all the places even you don't know about.

I want to run my very sensitive fingers over every small part of you, touch every single place I can.  Soft, hard, light feathery touches, pressure in knots of muscle.  I want to listen to every noise you make as I run a hand over your curves, watching for the movement of muscles under your skin as your nerves react and are heightened by the lack of sight.  

I want to smell you.  I want to uncover every single scent you hold, as you sweat, as you shudder, I want to know you without seeing you.

I want to taste you.  I want to find every single pore with my tongue so that your taste is imprinted in my mind with such clarity that by closing my eyes I can recall the sensation of you moving around me as I find all your physical secrets.

I want to be inside you.  I want to inhabit you so you know every single feeling that I feel, so that every single moment we are near you find the memory stirring.  

What I Want

I hate meetings like this.  Sitting there as new policy is unrolled and some dork just drones on as he reads from a paper, the same paper we've been given, as the exact same words roll across a power point display in a half lit room.  I'm always amazed that with all the media available all it has done is given people multiple ways to be completely fucking boring in as many ways as possible.

You take a seat next to me.  We've known each other for years, always flirted, it's just one of those things.  But today, you smell ... different.  When I smile and nod, you give me a half lift of an eyebrow and purr 'Is this seat taken?' and I growl back 'I'll take it if you'll share it.'  The joke is so bad I blush, you laugh, we settle back and wait for the boring to begin.

I start it.  I write on my pad, 'So fuckin' boring!' I draw a little stick man hanging himself.  You draw a boner on it, much more detailed than anything else and write 'I think about David Carradine too.'  I roll my eyes and doodle a nut for a bolt.  You write a question mark, then 'Last time for you?' 

At this point the man clears his throat and raises his voice, we both look up like kids caught passing notes in school, and he drones, louder, 'This next part is quite important so pay attention.'

Your hand grabs my thigh and squeezes as you give me a horrified expression and mouth 'We're so busted!'  At first I think you mouth 'You're so wasted.' I'm confused, then smirk, shaking my head.  Your hand does not leave my thigh.  I write 'Are you afraid I'll run away and leave you holding the bag?'  You write 'I could hold a bag for you.'

I'm not sure how to take this.  Never before has our flirting ever gone this far, but I'm not disappointed.  I write, 'It doesn't need to be held, well, not with a hand.'

My thigh is squeezed, I sit up and cough, your nails brushing further up and finding out how much I'm liking the attention.

For the next ten minutes we stare up at the power point presentation but I don't remember a thing as you draw tiny words on the inside of my thigh with your nails.  

Finally break time.

I stand up, smile at you, and leave.  As I step out of the room I head down the hall and lean against the wall, as you come out, I take out my pack and say 'Smoke?'  You don't but say 'Sure.'  

We get into the stairwell and go down two flights before cutting into another floor, trying doors as we walk along until we find an open door.  We don't bother speaking as we slip into the room.

No lights are turned on, we just tear at each other.  This is not love, this is not passion, this is nothing but the unleashing of pure savage animal lust.  We don't even bother getting our clothes off, we just get the parts open or pushed aside as we slam into each other finding all the different ways two bodies can get as close as possible with several layers of cloth between them.

You bite at me, my tongue, my neck, my lips.

I grasp you, squeezing your breasts, your ass.  I run a hand down your thigh to grab your knee, lifting it so I can feel the muscle of your calf.  

So little noise is made except the explosions of breath and the shaking of furniture.  I don't even know what we're banging into.  

You growl and bite my shoulder so hard I can hear the seam rip, and I clutch your shoulders as my head shoots backward, following my eyes.  We don't uncouple, just stand there, locked in the expression of sex like an erotic sculpture.  We don't even breathe.  For a moment that will never be forgotten we just stop.  Petite mort the French call it.  I get it.

We finally let go.  Straighten up.

I text my boss that the power point gave me a migraine.  You call yours and claim female problems.

We find a new place to explore.

The Idiot's Guide to Slut Shaming

Come on in folks, grab a seat, grab a granola bar, and feel free to chime in at the end.

So first off let's define slut shaming.  Slut shaming is when a woman is labelled as a slut for publicly expressing her sexuality.  And this label of slut is a pejorative and we heap negative attributes on the female showing their sexuality.  And that's really all it is.  So why is this bad?

It is bad because it is a removal of agency from the female on many levels.  Any woman who shows her sexuality openly or uses her sexuality as a means of employment or advantage is doing so to serve the patriarchy and is being abused! *bzzzzt* Wrong.  While that can be true in many circumstances, prostitution comes to mind but even that can be a grey area, when it comes to entertainers (eg Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga, Madonna, etc.) their use of sexuality might be exploitative.  But to assume that right from the start is to immediately state that any woman who expresses her sexuality is only doing it for a male audience and at their behest.  Really? So women cannot display their sexuality as a man might and enjoy it?

As a comparison, has anyone thought that Fabio, who's entire career is celebrating the inherent sexuality of his looks and body, was being exploited by the matriarchy? The only reason he did it was because women would only accept him as such?  What about Barry White?  What about Kinsey?  Are these individuals, with careers that are defined by exploring their sexuality, doing so without agency?  When you assume that there is no possibility of agency you are dehumanizing and marginalizing an individual without thought.  That's a bad thing in case you were wondering.

The second part of agency it takes away is the ability to be seen as an individual rather than as a sexual object.  When a man expresses his sexuality or acts as a sexual object, he can go back to being a man afterwards.  A woman who expresses her sexuality is now only a sexual object and she should expect to be treated as such at every turn.  This is the same bullshit that lends itself to rape culture.  A woman who dances with a man provocatively at a club must want sex, and if she doesn't give it up willingly then a man has the right to take sex by force.  The parallel is so blindingly similar I always get a little surprised when I hear a woman say it.

Slut shaming is also very much a means to control women's sexuality.  There are no limits to how a heterosexual male can express their sexuality.  He can be crude, romantic, pervy, suggestive, or lacking any sexuality.  A woman can only be a thinly defined line of sexuality, where she is to perform sexually in only specific situations for specific reasons.  Part of the problem we're encountering right now with female sexuality is a great many woman just aren't accepting this thin line of definition anymore.  And because that definition has been around so long and accepted as a part of a feminist view point of sexual explotation of women via porn, prostitution, and stripping, this new turn is causing a re-examination of the identity of female sexuality.  And let's be honest, even smart people are fucking lazy and refuse to think about things before just relying on the same old argument they've always used.  Sometimes intelligent people are the WORST at this because they know they're intelligent and assume they've given the situation proper thought.  Guess what, we usually haven't.

So that's the deal folks.  That's the idiot's guide to slut shaming and why it's a bad thing.  So knock it the fuck off ok?

Best conversation in a 7-11 EVAR

Come on in folks, not much to snack on but I've got a funny story.

So I wasn't feeling well yesterday, and kinda pissy.  Joints hurt, stomach was all acidy and upset, and in general not feeling well.  Go for supper with my Moon and we stop off at the 7-11 for drinks after that.  And as I'm filling up my drink, this little guy comes up to me and this conversation happens:

Little Boy with Big Voice: Hey you! (I looked way down, this guy couldn't be more than 3 and barely came up to mid thigh on me, but his voice was louder than mine)
Me: Hi, my name's Coyote.
LBwBV: Hi Coyote! GUESS WHAT?!
Me: What?
LBwBV: (he thrusts a cup of candy up towards me, barely reaching my waist) I GOT CANDY!
Me: AWESOME!
LBwBV: What'cha getting there?!
Me: A drink.
LBwBV: What KIND?
Me: Diet Coke. I can't have sweet things like candy or normal pop, I'm diabetic.
LBwBV: NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Yeah!
LBwBV: NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Yeah, it's terrible, so you're going to have to enjoy the candy I can't have.
LBwBV: YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His mom, a tired looking woman with another child, female, who was maybe a year or two older than this little guy with the huge voice. I just smiled and chuckled, and she gave me a relieved smile. I'm guessing this guy is quite a handful, but damn if he didn't totally change my day.  So adorable and I couldn't stop chuckling.  I'm still looking at my Moon, and going 'NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!' in his astonished and unbelieving voice. Good stuff.

Wow. Brain. Seriously?

Mornin', come on in and have some toast and cheese.  Good stuff.  The winter can go fuck itself, but at least it's sunny.

So I have me a lovely little kitty and he gets fed on a schedule and he loves his food.  I mean, this cat purrs so loud when presented with food I'm surprised he doesn't vibrate apart.  I don't need an alarm clock anymore because at 7:30 AM he is there, purring and rubbing and kneading.  My gawd the kneading! He would murdercuddle my face with kneading out of love for me and his food.  Serious. When kitty want food, his love is worse than his attacks.

So I get up, and as I'm pulling my old, battered, and abused body out of bed, my mind goes 'What would you do-OO-oo for a Klondike bar.'  And I was like, "Nothing brain, I'm diabetic and lactose intolerant."  And then my brain goes 'What would Pixie do-OO-oo for a bowl of kibble.'  And I was like "Murdercuddle a face, duh."

And then my brain goes 'No dude, check this, this is funny.' And this dialogue goes through my brain.



Off Camera Voice:  Sir, SIR?



OCV: Sir? What would you do for a Klondike bar.

Dude :  Your mom. 

OCV :  No, seriously, is there anything you'd do for me right now to get this Klondike bar?

Dude :  I am serious, you're Davey right? Davey Tesler? I was just on my way to fuck you mom.  

OCV: *sputtering* I whu... yeah that's me ... but what? Who the fuck are you?

Dude :  The guy fucking your mom.  So let me go bang her and I'll come back and get my ice cream, ok?

OCV: *slight hitches like Davey might cry* You ... why would you do this ... why ... I'm just doing my job, why would you say that about my mom? You ... this is my first day and this happens? Why does my life suck so bad ... *sobs and deep breathing*

Dude :  Aw .. Davey, man, ok, look.  How about ... how about I promise not to fuck your mom?  Would I get that Klondike bar now? Aw man, do you need a hug? Look, I'm sorry, ... I didn't want you to cry. 



OCV/Davey:  You ... you promise?

Dude : Yeah.  I promise I won't fuck your mom for a Klondike bar. 



Dude :  I was just kidding anyways Davey.

Davey: You .. you mean you never fucked my mom?

Dude:  Oh GOD no, I mean I'm still gonna bang your mom, that pussy's so tight and sweet.  


And then I was like 'Really ... hehe... Really brain that was terrible ... hahahahahaahaa. Ok ok, so the dude, he's all like, big stringy beard and jean jacket right? HAHAHAHA And Davey ... he kinda looks like Kevin McDonald? BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!'

Yeah. That's how I wake up in this mofo.

I'm just not in the mood for this

There are no snacks, the fire is out, the den feels lonely.

I find that I am frequently placed in impossible situations.  Or perhaps, better said, I feel that, due to my ability to perceive what I perceive, I am forced to make decisions that have no reasonable outcome.  And I think I'm done with it.

I am unsure how it got to this point but it is no small comfort to know how things will progress and be proven right after the fact.  Actually, I should say it this way.  I know I have failed to make the right choices when they were presented despite their possible consequences, so now due to those failures I am reaping the consequences.  They are ugly and bitter.  And I think I'm done with it.

I am tired of hearing the slap-dash bullshit philosophies of self-help books.  I have a secret for you.  The lack of action does not 'let things take their course.'  The lack of action merely approves through silence the mistakes of the past.  And I think I'm done with it.

As pompous as this may sound, I have worked hard, hard enough to break myself on multiple occasions, to gain the knowledge, respect, and positions I now have.  I don't need to listen to the uneducated and ignorant on what I should or should not do.  And I think I'm done with it.

There is no magical understanding, there is no better place.  Where you are is where you are, your terrible choices and selfish behavior follows you.  We all like to think we're some special case, this is our own little movie or story and no one could possibly understand what we feel or think, but that's not just wrong, it is the antithesis of what I believe.  We are as common as our DNA.  We all experience the same things in a lot of the same ways.  That an individual may chose to ignore those connections is not my problem.  And I think I'm done with it.

To claim that you may have some solution in some new way that hasn't been tried when you have not observed the entire situation is not only delusional but insulting to the people who have been there day in and day out trying to help.  It is not helpful.  When your choices bring you ruin do not expect any sympathy from me because I was able to reason out the most likely outcomes.  I am not here to be ignored so you can fulfill your fantasy of finally being what you wished you could have been before.  And I think I'm done with it.

I have many people in my life who love and respect me.  There are many individuals who know all my faults and mistakes and yet never once have they shied away from me or been disrespectful or dismissive.  No, they have not always agreed with me, they have disagreed quite vigorously but they never once made me feel unloved.  To those that have you may take this as your final reward:  I will not tolerate it and you will be removed from my life.  Every shred of you will be dismissed and I will shed no tears for the loss.  And I think I'm done with it.

My hands have been tied to do what should have been done months ago.  I tried it your way. You have placed every conceivable obstacle in my path to prevent me from doing what should have been done.  You have said and done things that made me realize just how little is thought of me in certain circles.  And I think I'm done with it.

As a final thought: When this all finally comes crashing down, when I stare into the fate I fear the most, when I am forced to accept what should never have been accepted, don't think yourself so important that you will take the blame.  You are not even worth that.  I will shoulder it because that is my responsibility.  One I take far more seriously than any consideration that has been given to me.  And I think I'm done with it.

First Nations, Treaty Rights, Sovereignty, and the Canadian Government. (Or 'SWC's Guide to the Willfully Ignorant on First Nations Issues.)

Come on in and enjoy some left overs.  There's cabbage rolls, there's some turkey sammich stuff, including some wonderful hot mustard, and of course, there's soup being made but we'll share that out at the end.  I brought in lots of blankets and pillows and such, as well as a few benches so we can all fit and all talk, if we want, but first I want to describe and lay out a lot of things that are flying around out there in a fairly simple and straight forward manner, that may include a few funny things as well.

So to start with I'm going to give you a rough outline of how the treaties were created, a little bit of opinion on that and also how the treaties were subverted to be used as a tool of oppression and genocide.  My main idea here is to give as much information as possible so that some more understanding can occur but also so you, the reader, can go out and do some of your own research, your own digging, to find answers that can be added to what I've written, or to outright refute what I've written.  Either way I want a dialogue that will give everyone a better understanding of the various perspectives that are out there without a lot of the negativity that occurs in these discussions.  That's not to say that there won't be some harsh truths or even some negativity but the point is not to make this an attack, but again, a dialogue.

So first off, how were the treaties seen from each side?  Well for the Crown it was a means to unify a fairly large land mass and preempt any military action from south of the border.  The Crown did not have the resources to fight a war and then secure the land so instead sought out negotiated means with which to gain the land and still have the means to develop.  From the First Nations side each band that signed each of the numbered treaties saw it as a means to share what they had with people who were their neighbours.  It was a way to ensure survival in a rapidly changing world that was not entirely to their liking but one that they had no means to combat successfully.  So as one nation to another they chose to sign and give up a massive amount of land in return for some very specific things.

You see up until the treaties things had not been going well.  First Nations were finding their land encroached on illegally.  If you want more info on why it was illegal, I recommend reading up on the Royal Proclamation of 1763, which will be celebrating it's 250th anniversary this year and is the basis for the Canadian constitution, was where the term 'reserve' came from, and was intended to protect the interests of First Nations people as well as colonial settlers.  Anyhow, things were going badly because of these illegal settlements, there was warring among different First Nations due to being forced west because of this expansion, and the Crown was having a hard time figuring out how it was going to incorporate the massive amount of land between Ontario and B.C. In short, no one was happy with what was going on.

So since the Royal Proc said everything past a certain point was reserved land for First Nations use the Crown had to negotiate a way to get those lands, or, you know, just say fuck it to their own laws and documents and start killing people.  Sadly, the reason for the lack of killing had nothing to do with the morality of it instead with the financial costs.  If the First Metis uprising in 1869-70 taught our government anything it was that wars were really really expensive and that the folks they would be fighting had a significant number of advantages that were hard to overcome.  So they went with talking instead.

The interesting thing about this choice is the reaction of First Nations.  At the time, they actually could have put up a pretty decent fight.  They were fairly well armed, could have easily taken a number of key forts and positions, and they could have made it one hell of a fight.  Some even did because they felt they were being dealt with unfairly.  But the majority said 'You know what? We've got a lot here, and there isn't many of us left.  And you know, maybe, just maybe, if we hang around, we can learn some things, and the white folks can learn some things, and we'll grow together and share the bounty of this land.'  But of course, they weren't stupid.  Far from it.  A large number of the Chiefs who signed the treaties also sent letters after the signing to the treaty commission that essentially read like this: 'Alright you guys, we signed the land and we did it for our survival but don't think we just rolled over because you scare us or because it was our only choice, we did it so we could share and survive, now honour the agreements and don't come sniffing around here for more land because I've watched what you greedy fuckers do when you get something, you just want more of it.'  Seriously, they read a lot like that, but, y'know, with good English and no swear words.  Chief Kahkawistahaw was one of them and you can find the film, which includes a word for word recitation of his letter, about what was done to his reserve online.  Great view.

So the treaties were signed, and there was another rebellion, and more treaties were signed, and eventually we got 1 through 11.  And here's an interesting part of those treaties.  You see, FN people are kind of big on fairness.  I know that's a broad generalization but just follow along for now.  Anyhow, some smart cookie right at the start said 'Oh and one of the things we want for giving you all this land is that if you make an agreement down the line with other FN groups and they get stuff we don't get, then you have to give us that too.'  Actually, the fairness bit probably had more to do with rivalries and some folks not wanting their enemies getting something they didn't, but I love playing on that 'mystic wisdom of the Indians' thing.  What this clause means is that for you to understand ALL of what the treaties give FN people you actually have to read ALL of the treaties.  That way you'll understand ALL of what was promised for a MASSIVE amount of land.  People like to joke that Manhattan Island was bought for beads, well, if you think about the incredible number of resources that were pulled out of the lands the Crown picked up and for what they've given for them, the bead deal suddenly looks pretty good for the FN.  As well every single treaty includes the phrase 'As long as the Sun shines and the Rivers flow.'  This is FN speak that means 'FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER.'  But it also evokes a sense of relationships.

So to digress just briefly:  First Nations, again this is a generalization, but I don't have the space, time or energy to detail every single group and how they specific felt towards each agreement, saw the treaties as a living thing just like any other relationship.  It needed to be tended, it needs to be talked about, it needs to be renewed with discussions, gifts, and a place for concerns to be brought forward by both parties so everyone is satisfied.  I'll let everyone think about that and come to their own conclusions about if it happened.

Anyhow, WHAT EXACTLY DID THE FNs ASK FOR YOU SAY?! Because I can feel a few of you getting impatient about that I'll provide a simple list of the major points:

• Land that would be their own, land that would be their place that could not be taken from them so they would always have a home.  Land that allowed them to continue to grow as people and communities.
• Education.  That tired old saw about 'the cunning of the white man.'  They wanted all the education they could get.
• Gifts.  Money and resources that were important at the time so that the Crown would continue to recognize the continually giving gift of the land that the FNs gave up.
• Health.  They wanted to ensure that they would remain healthy in all ways, this clause includes cultural health as the Crown was to protect their culture and ways to ensure they would not be discarded or disrespected.
• Financial stability.  The FNs realized the financial worth of their land, don't kid yourselves that they didn't.  So they wanted to ensure that they too would see the benefits of the land they gave up.

And the Crown also promised to do a few things:

• They would ensure that each reserve was provided with effective tools to use the land they now had.
• They would take care of the finances until such a time as the FN could do it themselves.
• Thy promised that any financial dealing with their land had to go through the Crown and they would look out for the best interests of that band.
• They agreed to help set up governments so the FNs could govern themselves.

Now this is not an exhaustive list of everything that's in the treaties but they are the most discussed and most debated points.  And the most contentious issues that cause the most friction and disagreement because both sides have interpreted these points to their own advantage. 

But here is where the shit hit the fan folks.  Y'see, the Treaty Commission got back to Ottawa with all their documents and the Crown looked at them and went 'Holey fuck, we've set ourselves up a system where we're going to be responsible FOREVER.  And it's going to cost us a lot of money to do what we said we'd do and we're not going to see a return on that investment for AGES.'  They really weren't happy with it, but then some bright light went 'Well ... we could just legislate the treaties, put them under a set of laws that are our interpretations of the agreements and then ... well geez, we do this right and we can do whatever we want!'  And thus was born the Indian Act.  A set of laws that govern a specific group of people in Canada and set rules and limitations on what the treaties could and couldn't do.  And that is really when the problems started. 

Interpretation of an agreement between different parties really should be a joint effort, but the Crown took it upon themselves to just write up their own thing and this is really the biggest reason our country is where we are.  Because one of the governing principles of the Indian Act's creation can best be summed up by one of their earliest commissioners and one of Canada's Confederation Poets: 

I want to get rid of the Indian problem. I do not think as a matter of fact, that the country ought to continuously protect a class of people who are able to stand alone… Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department, that is the whole object of this Bill. - Duncan Campbell Scott

The policy right from the beginning of the Act was to assimilate and get rid of FNs people.  Can't keep paying folks who don't exist.  As well a huge number of laws about disenfranchisement were created.  Marry a white man?  Well then you lost your status.  Move off the reserve?  Loss of status.  Get an education past grade 9?  Loss of status.  Get a job that was off reserve?  Loss of status.  They came up with a bunch of different ways to make it impossible to not lose your status if you wanted to, you know, prosper. 

So here's the thing, the treaties were meant to be a partnership.  Something where both sides can come together, learn from one another, and grow.  Instead they got manipulated into being a means through which to oppress and destroy a group of people.  And this, despite how much people hate to hear this, is an act of genocide.  Want the definition of genocide?  Here ya go:

Article II:  In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:

(a) Killing members of the group;

(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;

(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;

(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;

(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

So yeah ... every single one of those things has happened to FNs communities both on and off reserve.  Sadly they continue today.  They happened every time someone says 'Why can't we all just get along?  I didn't sign the treaties, I shouldn't be held responsible for what they say.'  Because in effect, when you make this claim you are saying that the country you live in should not be held accountable for their agreements and should be allowed to wipe out anyone who stands in the way of its prosperity.  You may not intend that, but it is the end result.  Because the treaties are a two way street here folks.  Canada got the largest portion of land ever given up in exchange for specific conditions.  If you want a simple way to look at it, it's a rental agreement.  The FNs give up the land in exchange for specific actions that can be seen as rent.  But that is seriously oversimplified and flawed.  I prefer to think of it like this:  The treaties are the means through which my country was able to flourish and grow.  Without them we'd be much different than we are.  Because these agreements were meant to be flowing, living, changing things I find it offensive that they've been locked up in the cage of the Indian Act and are used as a means to oppress and destroy part of my cultural heritage.  And I don't just mean as a Status Indian, I mean that they destroy the fabric of my country because they are shameful and disgusting.  Sadly it continues and no one seems to care.

So how does that place us here, with things like Idle No More, Chief Spence's hunger strike to demand a meeting with the PM and the GG, and a general unrest occurring across Canada among aboriginals and their supporters?  Well to be honest, folks are just plain fed up with the status quo.  I've just given you the introduction to how the treaties came about and I'm sure there's a ton of things you can already say about how they were not honoured.  Land seizures, laws against FNs culture, residential schools, the pass system, blood quantum and incomplete re-enfranchisement laws.  Not to mention the outright starvation of FNs during hard times, or the delayed help when it came to natural disasters.

Folks are fed up with a system that is essentially broken and no amount of amendments or changes will make it better.  We should realize that at this point we need honest communication, we need honest understanding, and we need to stop assuming each side is out to get the other.  Because even in those acts of genocide, the Crown thought they were doing the right thing.  Sad but true.  I'm not apologizing or justifying the actions, but I am pointing out that back then, understandable, now, not so much.

But there seems to be a willful ignorance within Canadian society.  It's like a 5 year old who is fighting sleep, and every time someone tries to put them to bed they pitch a fit and deny reality.  Our country is not founded on principles of justice and good will.  It's founded on duplicity and homogenization.  Our country isn't some beautiful place where people can come to be whoever they want to be, it is a country that is slammed every year by the UN Councils on Human Rights and the Rights of Indigenous People.  Our country is not one where everyone can succeed, it is a country that actively keeps various groups of people oppressed because having a group of people like that is worthwhile.  Don't get me wrong, I love Canada, am proud of all of my various backgrounds, of my citizenship and my status.  But I'm far too concerned with truth and with positive actions moving forward to keep thinking my country is in any way, shape, or form, a just and fair place.

In regard to that, if you feel the protests, the so called 'benefits' that FNs get are too much, or that you are being made to feel guilty for your privilege I want you to really stop and think about why you feel defensive.  Is it because you truly feel attacked or that things are unfair for you, or is it just the rejection of the reality that Canada is not so great, is not some shining beacon of morality, that we still have SERIOUS race and social justice issues that need to be addressed?  Because that is a very uncomfortable truth and one that makes quite a few people uncomfortable.

So here are some specific points to touch on about comments I've heard recently that I find offensive or troublesome:

• Why can't we all just get along?  Why are things that happened so long ago still such points of contention?  It wasn't me or even my great grandfather that had anything to do with this so why should I be responsible?  Answer:  Because no matter how far away these things happen a large segment of our society is not benefiting from the same advantages most others have because of a piece of legislation.  Just as you would never tell a female who got raped to 'just get over it' because it happened 10 or more years ago, it is the height of insensitivity to expect people who are still suffering from genocidal acts to just 'get over it.'  Not only that, these things are not part of some distant past.  They are happening RIGHT NOW!  Want to know when the last residential school closed?  Early 1980s.  Why?  BECAUSE TOO MANY KIDS WERE DYING!  Know what the Highway of Tears is?  It's the stretch of road in B.C. where hundreds of FN women have disappeared from.  If the serial killer Picton teaches us anything it is that our policing services care little for FN women as he said he targeted them because he knew the cops wouldn't investigate.  Sentencing for FN youth is usually twice as severe and FNs make up a disproportionate amount of inmates.  They are sentenced harsher and given less chances for rehabilitation because of damaging stereotypes and precedents.  While the level of corruption on reserves is not statistically higher than that in any other small civic government or business it is given disproportional media attention.  And in most cases, the leaders we have now are the very victims of the residential schools as they were badly parented, separated from their culture and homes and then rejected from the culture they were told to be like.  They have NOTHING to grasp as an anchor so do what any other person in that situation would do, look out solely for themselves.  We can't all get along because the system is set up to discriminate and destroy a section of our society and until that changes, until it is recognized and worked on, no one is safe from losing what they have.
• How can FNs claim sovereignty?  You can't have a nation inside another nation.  Besides, we defeated them!  Answer:  The claim to sovereignty is not one that rejects Canada but that forces Canada to recognize the third part of its formation.  John Ralston Saul's book 'A Fair Country' is wonderful in describing this point of view.  YES there are factions who believe that FNs should be viewed as their own nations and our lands should be treated as such.  I don't ascribe to that view, but I do believe we need to be recognized as sovereign pre-contact, and sovereign now, and that we not only deserve the right to govern ourselves as we see fit but in a form that is more suited to our beliefs and systems of philosophy.  Oh and yes you can have a nation inside another nation.  Another removal of blinders folks:  Quebec is essentially a nation within our nation.  It may not be law but they follow a different set of civic and social laws, have seperate beliefs and languages, and exercise them at their will.  Deal with it.  We can be one country once we start to recognize how we were truly formed and where our true strength lies.  Oh and FNs never 'lost' to anyone.  In fact, were it not for timely help from FNs Canada would have lost the few wars we've had on home soil, and the one where the French did reject FN help ended disastrously against a terrible general who sucked at his job.  
• We need solutions that bring us together, not that separate and categorize us as different.  Answer:  Yep, I agree here ... except ... it can never happen as long as the Indian Act survives.  Also those 'bringing together' solutions cannot be 'if you just act like us and believe what we believe everything will work out fine.'  Because that is cultural homogenization and a little tiny baby step removed from genocide.  The 'citizen plus' idea that was the response to the 1969 White Paper was and still is one of the dumbest things ever.  And it comes directly from the influence of the Indian Act.  The dialogue has to start differently and work itself towards recognizing the treaties as nation to nation agreements that need to be worked on constantly.  There are hundreds of people on both sides of the debate who are incredibly qualified to undertake these kinds of actions ... but the Indian Act says it cannot be done.  Seriously folks, go read that thing, and don't forget to catch the part that refers back to the Human Rights Code.  The part in there that says if there is something in the Indian Act that could be challenged under the HRC, it cannot be.  Yep, the Indian Act says that as someone who is covered by the act I am not quite a human in the eyes of the law.  Welcome to the club Metis! :)

Overall, it's a pretty complicated issue but it is one that requires that we go out and learn more about it rather than just put up a defense and demand that we not be made to feel bad.  In fact, every time I hear that response I have an overwhelming urge to stalk off to the wilderness and leave you all behind because I just can't take the willful ignorance anymore.  Don't get me wrong, that's not to say I don't have my own moments, but when they're pointed out to me I do get defensive to start with but then I let the rational parts of my head, the spiritual parts of my soul really start to mix and lead me to an answer that my heart can accept as true.  Which is usually me admitting I was an ass for being defensive and I was wrong to be willfully ignorant.  And I hope, truly hope that this bit of information does indeed help start a dialogue so everyone who wishes to join can be heard and understood.

Never gone

Come into the den, here just you and me.  Sit down little bear, I need to talk to you.  I would try another way but you seem to never want to listen.  But please hear me out.

I miss you.  The house doesn't seem much of a home without you in it.  I miss your laugh and your impetuousness.  I liked having you around to share meals, chores, and talk.  Even though, I hate to admit it, we haven't talked a lot lately.  I could make excuses, but I miss you, and that's all that needs to be said.

I'm not sure how to take the direction you want your life to go.  I can't say if it's good or bad.  I don't even know if it is.  It feels like you're making a mistake, but maybe that's just because you're not here, immediate and close, where if something goes wrong I can save you, fight for you, shield you from what happens.

Your place will never be gone.  I want you to know that.  You're always wanted.  Yes, there will be conditions, but that only has to do with both our health.  When it comes to my love, there is no conditions.  I love you little bear and I feel the need to scoop you up like you were a little girl again, take you away from whatever bad things are happening in your soul, and cuddle you to my chest, knowing that I have the teeth and strength yet to rend apart any threat to your well being.

But I can't.  And you don't want me to.  And again, I don't know if that's good or bad.  It feels bad because it's not what I would choose for you.  But it's your choice.  I hope you learn the lessons you so desperately want to learn.

I guess what I need to say is that freedom, the freedom we think is waiting just around the corner, is an illusion.  True freedom requires that we care little for the world around us.  And I can't see you doing that.  You love too hard, and you love fiercely.  And I am awed by this.

Please be safe.  I'll always be here when you need or want me.  Just ask.

The insanity of 'war crimes.'

C'mon in and grab a snack.  I'm not eating, my stomach is a bit wonky.  Feel free to help yourselves though, I've got some yogurt pretzels.

So I was listening to The Current and the subject was Omar Khadar's return to Canada.  And one of the folks they interviewed was a member of the group that assaulted the compound that Omar was in when he was 15.  This member of the US military was very upset at Mr. Obama for sliding out Omar under cover of the weekend without a statement because, by his reckoning, Omar was a US prisoner who committed a war crime against the US and should be kept in a US institution.  So the host asked a couple of questions, and got the background to how this young man was detained.  The story essentially goes like this:

The military people came across this bunker and had identified it as an enemy compound.  How they came to that conclusion was not provided.  The US military then demanded the occupants of the compound come out.  They waited 45 minutes, during which time, although this detail is hazy, women and children were let out of the compound.  Because no one came out of the compound, the US military called in air strikes and blew the every loving fuck out of the building.  They zipped so much firepower into that building that the only person found alive in the building was Omar Khadar.  And when they did find him, he tossed a grenade, killing an American soldier, and then fired the pistol he had.  When he was out of ammo he was captured.

When this soldier was asked about Omar's status as a child, the response was very strange. 'If he was a child he could have left with the women and children.'  Therefore he's not a child.  So ... wait.  I'm not sure how this logic works.  He is defined as a child soldier, he is therefore responsible to self-declare?  Because ... children are known for logical and well planned thought.  Especially those that have been indoctrinated by a family that felt the Americans were Imperialistic Oppressors who were there to commit unwarranted acts of violence, so they should defend themselves against such.

Maybe I'm being naive here.  And that's totally possible, since I've never been a soldier nor participated in the activities of war.  But ... you just blew the living fuck out of his home.  If someone called air strikes against my home, killing everyone but me, and it was done by people I was told were there to commit acts of violence, I might defend myself with anything available as well.  And how does that qualify Omar Khadar as a war criminal?  Isn't it just actions of war?  And how the hell does someone become a war criminal when they are doing exactly what the accusing nation is doing?

And there are so many other questions.  I just don't understand this.  The guy defended himself from an invading army and, despite being underage, was subjected to torture and detention.  It sounds instead as if he is being a scapegoat for any and all aggressive actions taken against the US.  Bizarre.

To those who have left behind childish things

Come on in.  I know the den is a bit dusty from disuse, and I could make excuses, but I won't.  There are some oranges to enjoy, grab a couple and pull up a patch of dirt.

A friend posted a picture on G+, and I've seen it before, in a couple different contexts.  Each time I've seen it I've had a tear in my eye, and today, I saw it and admitted to my love why it touched me.

Even just putting in the image, I feel the tears well up, my chest hitches, and I go blurry eyed.  Like many people I know, sleep is not a friend.  I've always played it off that I can sleep anywhere.  I can do that because I'm always exhausted.  Cuz that little boy, he is me.

I've had nightmares every single night for as long as I can remember.  When I was young, around 8, they were so terrible, I would wake screaming, screeching, flailing.  My mother, a woman who tried her best to deal with a precocious, terribly troubled and troubling child, did everything she could to help.  Even brought in the church folks to bless the room, do anything.  They said it was my Masters of the Universe quilt.  I told them my nightmares went away after it was gone.  I didn't want to lose anymore stuff.

I remember being so small and scared in bed.  I had tons of stuffies lined up along the side, all silent sentinels set to scout any scourge to my slumber.  I believed in them to keep me safe.  I never had just the one teddy, I had at least five, and elephants, and monkeys.  All arranged to watch over me.  

They did their job.  I never died of fright.  They helped me internalize what was so frightening, and I forced my dreams under my own control.  I wrested away from the night my terrors and dream lucidly now.  Hundreds of dreams.  I wake in the morning feeling I've walked miles, seen dozens of worlds, lived another week for each day.  I wake tired and worn.  Did when I was 8, I will when I am 80.

The nightmares have never stopped, and still I keep small things about to keep watch.  Until recently I always knew Xuxa was there to keep me safe, now it's Pixie's job.  It's my friends' job, who visit me in my mind as I attempt some form of rest.  

But for those small, cheaply made, glassy eyed creatures.  Those little soldiers in a nightly war.  Those embodiments of my mother and family, and their love.  What I miss is their assured victory.  That 8 year old boy never died.  They kept watch with their simple weapons hidden, to defend me as that lone bear does above.  And I always knew I would wake up the next morning.  

Leaving behind those childish things, I mourn for them, for the ability to know I will always wake up the next morning.  Because I don't know that anymore.  So to that end, I say thank you to those spirits that helped keep those little things on watch, those who maybe never attained the wish of one velveteen rabbit, but who, in their own ways lived to keep a frightened child safe.  

I pray to the grandfathers to give me serenity of mind, that one day perhaps I will unlock the hidden parts of my brain to let loose its many demons.

I say thank you to those grandfathers for sending forth the guardians of my nights to keep at bay those demons, to help me keep the fight going.

I give honour to all those small things, much greater in my mind's eye now, that they have found their peace after so much battle.  

Ho.

Another Shadow

Come on in.  There is no food right now.  Someone else will have to provide.

See that new shadow?  The one that is lurking near the edges and growls at the others?  That's Xuxa.  She left us today.  She was almost 16.  And a runt.  And so pretty.  So very pretty.  A calico who is best described as 3 lbs of cat and 30 lbs of hate, but limitless love for her family.  She never gave up a lap to cuddle, she growled and hissed when she was mad.  And she would talk for hours.

Later, I'll tell you stories.  But right now.  It's raw.  So very raw.  But my grandma gave her to me, and she's already gone south, so hopefully, she came around to show Xuxa to her new home.  We all love you baby girl.

The Friendzone

Come on in, we've got some pretzel bits, and a fine stir fry if you want something a bit more hearty.  It's delicious.  And udon noodles to boot!

So there is a meme.  It is the friend zone.  Shall I give you an example?  Sure I will.

Now generally this refers to the state where two individuals are friends and one wishes to pursue a romantic relationship and the other doesn't want to ruin the friendship.  As a further generalization this is one of those cases where a guy is nice to a girl, hoping she'll see his wonderful qualities and just kind of fall onto his dick. And well, to be quite honest, it doesn't exist except in the minds of those who feel somehow they've been 'wronged' by a female.

And there's all kinds of bullshit that goes along with this concept, y'know, guys see women date men who are bad for them, treat them like shit, and we know we treat them better, blah blah blah.  And so we make excuses like 'It's because he has money,' or 'must have a big dick to be able to treat her like that.'  Stupid shit.  Hell I've ever heard a comedian years ago make a statement about how he had a girl who was a friend (This was pre-internet meme overload, hell there was really just usenet, telnet, and email as far as I could tell on the old intertubes) and she dated these horrible guys then complained to him.  So he shouts at the audience, 'Here's my advice ladies.  Want to stop dating assholes?  Then date the guys you complain to about the assholes!'

And I get that.  I've had a few instances where a girl I liked was my friend, didn't wanna ruin the friendship, so we never got physical and I watched her date guy after idiot guy.  So I understand the HOW and all, what I don't understand is the obsession.  The fawning.  The fucking idiocy.  And while there is a ton of shit I could go on and on about within this entire concept I want to focus on two specific points within the friendzone concept that piss me off and are a clear sign that maybe you as an individual aren't ready to date someone.  And they are the reasons FOR being nice, and the inability to understand the dynamic of dating.  So let's get this done.

First off, if the whole reason you're ever nice to a girl, any girl, or a specific girl, is to fuck them, then you're a tool.  If your only ability to validate your actions is to rate your interactions with a person you're attracted to is through sex, my god man, grow the hell up.  While the beginning of a relationship is indeed filled with all kinds of physicality, it is far from being the only thing.

Secondly, there is a great quote floating about all up in the intarwebs that goes 'The friendzone is bullshit, women are not machines where you insert nice coins and sex drops out.'  This relates to the first point, because again, sex is not the be all end all.  It's just one part.  But also it relates to intent and obsession.  If a girl is not interested, move on dude.  There is no 'one' out there.  Trust me on this, and while it is hard to believe as a teenager (Because this is mostly aimed at them) there will be others, lots and lots of others, all over the place.  Just open your mind and perceptions up to it.

And really, let's be honest.  When a girl is your friend, and let's say you actually do get the guts to make an actual attempt at romantic overtures and she says 'But I don't want to ruin the friendship,' it's really just a nice way to say 'I don't find you attractive in that way.'  This is not you being unattractive.  This is you being unattractive to THAT GIRL.  Again, there are others.  Hell, we're on a planet of roughly 7 billion people, and if you live in any decent sized urban area, there is easily hundreds of thousands of women who are there.  Even if only a tenth of them find you attractive, that's still somewhere in the range of ten thousand or more.  You'll find one, or more.  Trust me.  MOVE ON.

And this is about that dynamic.  See, I teach writing.  I teach how to make an effective argument.  I teach how to get your point across.  And one of the things I see in writing is someone will lay out a bunch of facts, then make a conclusion and won't explain the inter-relation.  It's like walking up to someone who has food and saying 'Boy I sure am hungry...' and waiting for them to just hand you over food.

This dynamic is the same in regards to this friendzone bullshit.  If you're doing nice things because you're interested and you've never once said to her 'I'm interested in you in a romantic way' then who's fault is it she doesn't see you that way?  I mean, cut me loose here folks, but that sounds like it falls squarely on your own toolish head you half-wit.  You're not a cute animal, who can get away with jumping playfully at a girl and expect her to lavish attention on you.  Because well, one she's not going to date the damn dog or cat or whatever, and you she possibly could. IF and ONLY IF you get the damn thought into your brain to actually DO something about it.  And don't be all like 'Let's go for coffee' or 'let's see a movie' and expect her to assume it's a date.  Don't be a Leonard Hoffsteader.  BE DIRECT.  Say 'I want to go for coffee with you to explore the chances of us having a more intimate future.'  And if she says no, well great!  You now know you can redirect your energies elsewhere.  Don't go all mopey and cry over the one girl, or 12 girls, or 100 girls that say no.  They won't all say no.*

So guys, knock off this crap.  Treat women like humans, not goals, or conquests, or anything else but a human being.  Be assertive in your desires.  Don't expect it just to 'happen' because it doesn't.  And above all else, please please please stop obsessing over the ones who say no, or who want to be your friend but you want more.  There's other options.


*Ok, they could all say no.  You might be a repulsive chud with a terrible personality and the hygene of a monkey, flinging your feces all over the room.  In which case, you have WAY bigger issues to deal with than the friendzone, and that's an entirely different post.

Why poor people are poor.

Come on in and enjoy some ripple chips.  I realize that's a terrible breakfast but sometimes I'm a terrible person.  So y'know, balance.

So I've given this a lot of thought, and done a lot of research, and have lived very poor myself.  Hell I'm still poor.  And I've figured out the root cause of poverty.  And I thought, since I've discovered this mind altering and possibly even society altering fact, I would share it with you all so perhaps we can all start benefiting from this knowledge.

Poor people are poor because they have no money.

I know, that's so weird right?  to think that the only reason that poor people are poor is because they have no money is completely against everything we've been taught right?  But it's true.  Speaking as a poor person, and knowing a lot of poor people, and having really dug into this issue, I've discovered that it is nothing more than a lack of money that makes people poor.

We're taught that poor people are poor because they just don't know how to handle money.  Really?  I know for a fact that's fucking bullshit.  My grandmother?  She was poor, yet all the kids had food and clothing.  No one went hungry.  My mom?  She was poor.  I remember have a lot less than my friends as a kid but I don't remember ever needing for anything.  Sure our 'night out' might be burgers from 7-11, but we never needed anything.  I'm poor.  Both my girls are fed and clothed, they get to participate in sports and cultural activities.  They are fed the best quality of food I can afford.  Y'know why?  Because I know how to squeeze every last cent out of a dollar.  Learned from the best.  I get as much benefit from my dollar as is possible.  So don't give me any crap about how poor people don't know how to handle money.  I could give you about a million other examples of this but I think you get the point.

Add to this money management things such as our current 'boom' here in Rejayjay.  My rent, over the past two years, has gone up by over 50% from when I first moved into my apartment.  Every six months they've jacked the rent by as much as they could and it's not just here, it's everywhere doing it.  So it's not just a matter of if I'm good with my money now or not, because I don't recall getting a 50% raise over the past two years to keep up with the cost of my rent.  And I also know a lot of people in this same boat.  So trust me when I say poor people ain't poor because they don't know how to handle their money.  They do.

Well maybe it's because they're lazy right?  I mean, I know we've all been taught that hard work and effort will eventually pay off and we'll all be rich.  What a pile of fucking shit.  A big steaming pile of crap is what that is.  If it was based entirely off work, why don't I get paid about 80 bucks a minute for how hard I work.  Forget the parenting part of the equation, but every day, all the time I can muster, I am reading, researching, writing, note taking, or teaching.  I work my butt off and do I damn good job at the things I do.  And half of what I do I don't even get paid for, in fact I'm paying for it, because it's related to my education.  And don't get me started on how hard my grandmother worked.  She worked every fucking day of her life, she worked hard too, that woman was a machine.  There was no rainbow with a pot of gold at the end of it for her.  She lived on a fixed income and was never rich.  She never flew to Europe, she never saw the tropics, she never once stepped on a plane for all I can remember.  But boy did she work.  So I guess that lazy thing just can't be true.

It must be because they deserve it for some reason.  They're drug addicts, or maybe they beat their kids, or maybe it's just because they're stupid, because only stupid people would be poor.  Or they're crazy, yes, crazy.  Well.  I can't deny this one.  Nope, I must deserve to be poor because I have had addiction issues.  I've slapped a kid or two yep.  I doubt it could be called abuse, but why not for the purposes of this exercise.  And yes, I've been on anti-depressants and even ended up spending part of last summer enjoying the facilities at the General's psych ward.  So I guess I deserve to be poor.  Of course ... if you actually examine those issues, a lot of the reason people use drugs is to escape their miserable reality (usually due to mind crushing poverty), and abuse of children usually spouts from other issues, such as their own up bringing (where poverty was a big factor) and their lack of skills, or stress from not being able to pay bills, and I know my own depression can be set off by the realization that I can't afford where I live but I can't afford to move, what with having to have first and last months rent plus a damage deposit now and I can't save a dollar anywhere because there's always something that needs to be paid for and done and holy shit, what I wouldn't give to just not have to worry about this, where the fuck is that bottle of whiskey, and why do those kids always have to fight, I'ma slap the little bastards ... oops!  I guess you see the point, hmm?

As far as the stories of people that abuse the system ... well fuck a duck, rich folks abuse the system too.  How about we focus on stopping the folks who have ALL THE MONEY from fucking the rest of us over before we start fighting over the crumbs at the bottom when it comes to things like social safety nets, welfare, or employment insurance.  How about we stop looking at poverty as a symptom and rather as the root cause of a lot of our issues.  Poverty is a weapon that is used by our system, by our governments, by ourselves, to justify greed, abuse, and downright shitty behavior all around.

So the next time you start thinking about how poor people have it so good, what with all the social programs  and not working, and how life is so good, I'd like you to figure out how to live on $1100 dollars a month when your rent is over $900 dollars, see how that works out for you, because last time I had to apply for assistance, between that and other benefits, that's what I received.  That's hard fucking work folks.

AWESOME

Come on in and grab a pew.  Got me some ripple chips you can partake in.  Or celery.  I'ma eat the celery, I love the taste.

Last night rocked.  We all went over to The Ringmaster's house and watched some UFC, and I felt it was a damn good card.  Plus the company was awesome.  Cenobyte was there, and so was Neo, and kidlets, and we all couldn't stop laughing with all the hilarious comments getting tossed about.  Plus Ceno's eldest, The Captain, was wearing the coolest sweater that said Alcatraz Mental Ward Outpatient.  Was so cool.  And The Ringmaster's wife overfed us.  So good.  I feel all full this morning still.  It's amazing.

But the best part was being able to debate politics with The Ringmaster afterwards and both of us disagree yet be able to express our ideas.  And that's rare, and cool, and awesome.  Because we all need to be able to discuss these things without getting upset at each other.  There was no name calling, there was just expressing of ideas, which I do believe made both of us understand other perspectives, which is fantastic.  And makes me all happy.  So yah Ringmaster, you rock dude.

This chick is pretty awesome

Come on in and enjoy some popcorn, grab a stump and watch the fire.

So a while back my buddy Ringmaster introduced me to a wonderful little song by the Oatmeal.  Here it is.



So I looked up who the singer was.  Sarah Donner.  She's pretty freakin' awesome.  Her voice is just incredible and she's a fantastic songwriter.  She can even make a central pivot irrigation arm sound fun!



But this one is my favorite.



But the coolest thing is she runs a cat rescue home for abandoned cats and then gets them adopted out.  She loves the kittehs!  And she does a video Q&A thing called 'Ask a Cat Lady.'  Check the link, everyone needs to listen to more songs about nipples.

I'ma buy all her stuff.  And she's got some free songs available on her website, include the two I posted, PLUS you can get the motherfucking pterodactyl song free as an mp3 download from The Oatmeal!

A dream for you all

Come on in and grab a seat.  The rain might be turning to snow, and it might not be the beautiful long weekend we all want, but I was given a story last night, one I was told to share with everyone.  And we've got some apples to munch on while we watch the smoke.

There were a couple who lived in the woods.  They came from two different worlds so lived apart from those worlds.  They ran happily through what they thought of as their home, oblivious to the rest of the world, happy in each other and lost in their joy of discovery.

One day they ran into some others who lived in the woods who were not very friendly.  The young man fought with the strangers, first yelling, then wrestling.  The young man pinned one of the strangers, and ran away with his mate.  Since the fight was so grueling the young couple ran off deeper into the woods to avoid the strangers.

Unfortunately the young man felt bad for leaving, because the strangers seemed incredibly familiar.  As the young couple ran away the young man started to remember his old life and the people who were there and how similar they were to his family from before his mate.

Another stranger, like both the young man and the strangers, yet different in his dress, found the young man and woman hiding in the woods and sternly scolded the young man, "How dare you run from your family.  The are new to this place and wish to live like you but cannot yet.  These are your relations and you can teach them to live here.  You have forgotten who you are and how to act."

The young man was incredibly hurt by this and ran away from his mate and the strangely dressed man.  He ran through the woods, trying to find the answer to his problems.  He ran until he saw where the strangers lived.  They were huddled in a tree, and the young man knew what to do.

He crawled into the roots where he started a fire at the base of the trunk, stoking it with his breath to get it hot enough to burn a hole through the middle of the tree.  This way the smoke would be let out but heat would pass among the entire tree, keeping the people warm and with the glow of the fire within the tree.

While the young man did this, his mate tried to follow, and finally found her love.  She crawled into the roots with him and noticed that the young man was changing, that the people living in the tree were changing and looked a lot like otters.  She started to cry and crawled out again, encountering the strangely dressed man. "You took him away from me!  I'm so different from his people they won't accept me!  What should I do?  Why would you do this to us!?"

The strangely dressed man tipped his cowboy hat and smiled, he then softly said, "You're right, they won't accept you.  But they have accepted him.  It's not their choice if you stay."  He then walked away as the young woman crawled back into the roots of the tree.